


Speak As Loud As My Heart

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, Arguing, Coulson loves Skye, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kissing, Making Out, Older Man/Younger Woman, Phil feeling like himself again, Skye has anxiety, Skye is annoying like that, Skye just won't stop asking, Skye loves Coulson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-21 00:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2449145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feels from the promos of 02x04.  Coulson keeps talking about being old, Skye notices.  And says something.</p><p>Title from Coldplay's "The Scientist".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak As Loud As My Heart

" _The exhuberence of youth_?"

She waited to say it just after rest of the team had passed through to the other room.

He walked by her as she crossed her arms.

When he had some space between them, he paused, turned, stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"It was meant to be funny."

"Not long ago, _you_ would've been the one suggesting it," she replied.

"How so?" he asked, trying to put on a light smile.

"When the mission didn't go as planned, you'd have put on a cheery voice, say it makes things more interesting."

She circled the holotable as he watched.

" _You_. Would've said that..."  


He looked away from her and raised his chin slightly.

"Sir, what's going on with you?" she asked, with exasperation.

Crossing his hands in front of his body, he stared back at her.

"Nothing."

"Not to remind you of what you already know," she said, "But seeing as you have benefited many times in the past from my pattern recognition capabilities, the number of words and/or phrases used by you recently indicating that you are old, are trending."

"Okay," he said, shrugging back at her, both impressed and concerned.

"So...What gives?"

"I guess SHIELD landed in my lap. That's what," he answered defensively.

"And that suddenly makes you _old_ , somehow?"

"Skye, if you have something to say," he said, running out of patience. "You should get to the point."

"I have _no clue_ what this is about," she said, stepping closer to him. "Because you and May seem determined to keep it between the two of you. But what makes you think I'm going to just drop it? So, stop talking like you're dying and tell me..."

She had meant it as a joke but trailed off when she watched as his face washed pale.

"Sir...," she began, her eyes wide, taking a step towards him.

"Stop," he said.

"I thought it was about the symbols," she replied, making the connection. "That you were just hiding more secrets from me, but...this is about you, isn't it?"

"We are not doing this right now," he said, in frustration. "I'm tired, it's been a long day."

"I wanted to imagine it, that your hand wasn't shaking earlier," she said, as he covered his hand with his face, trying to hide his panicked expression. 

"That all the things I've noticed in the last few months were just _me_ being paranoid."

Skye turned away from him then, putting her hands on the holotable to ground herself.

"You're not paranoid," he said, his voice suddenly going calm. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to feel that."

"I don't want to feel _anything_ for you right now," she said, lowering her head between her shoulders and kicking the base of the holotable.  
  
He felt sick. This wasn't what he wanted, at all. Just to protect her. Hold this thing together for as long as he could.

"Garrett was right," he finally confessed. "I'm a broken man. I just didn't realize it, and now I'm trying to..."

"Shut up," Skye said, looking up at him, furious.

"I'm trying," he repeated, controlled expression, "To do do everything to leave behind something that..."

Skye walked towards him and shoved her hands out at him.

"No," she said, pushing him back.

"Skye."

He tried to fend her off, but her training had made it easy for her to cut past him and he ended up having to use his experience to spin her own force back around and push her up against the monitors.

"I'm doing this for you!" he cried, pinning her shoulders back.

She shook her head at him, tears forming in her eyes. So angry and defeated at the same time.

He could feel her shaking under his touch.

"Skye?"

He saw her look at the monitor on her wrist.

He pushed the button on it and watched the numbers climbing.

"Just breathe," he said, forgetting himself, touching her, grabbing her to his chest, feeling the pain rippling through his body.

He didn't care.

She took shallow breaths against his chest as he stroked her hair.

"When did this start?" he managed to say, afraid to ask.

"Always," she said, now with long enhales. "Panic attacks since I was six. But I could control it. And I can't now, or...it's getting harder to."

"This is my fault," he whispered. "It's the drug."

"How can you know that?" she asked, pushing his shoulders back with her hands to read his face.

"Because it's happenning to me to me. I'm burning up inside. Touching you, it's..."

Seeing his pained expression, she shook herself loose from him, pushed him away.

"It's why you've been avoiding me."

"Mostly."

"Why can't you...just give a straight answer?" she asked.

"Because _I_ did this, Skye," he said, full of guilt. "Me. I gave the order to give you the GH-325. And it's my fault that..."

She caught him in mid-sentence and pressed her mouth up against his, kissing him furiously, innocently, holding onto the lapels of his jacket.

"You saved my life," she said, surprised by her own act, staring at his blue eyes, at the fullness of his bottom lip.

"Don't ever forget what that means."

He doesn't answer her, but she understands his intent when he presses himself up against her, hesitant. There is a question in his eyes, and he's so unlike the man she knows him to be, all she wants is him to see himself the way she does.

So she pulls herself against him, grabbing his neck, forcing their mouths together again.

This time, he isn't taken off guard, and kisses back. 

It's open-mouthed, like he's racing her to find out whose tongue and hands can seek out the other more. More. 

The thing inside him burning is still there, but that is fading in the face of this thing between them burning hotter and brighter.

They stop long enough for him to grab her hand and glance down the hallway, as though they weren't making enough noise already, before heading up the spiral staircase to his office as he shuts and locks the door behind them.

When he turns around, Skye is sitting on his desk, wearing a smile, unbuttoning the front of her shirt.

It's all too familiar, the feel of them alone in here. 

It conjures up everything at once.

He wonders how many times he's thought about doing this very thing on his desk before pressing himself between her legs and stopping after a frenetic kiss to press the button on her bracelet.

The number is climbing.

She can feel it in him too, she has her hand on his chest. 

His shallow breathing, his heart pounding into her hand, and she drags him back into her for another kiss as he takes over and begins taking apart the rest of her shirt as she sucks and nibbles along his neck.

Once he's worked the shirt off of her, his mouth is moving over shoulders, licking along her collarbone, to her breasts. 

It's not slow or gentle, it's desperate and needy and that's what she wants from him right now. 

She unhooks her bra and he pulls it aside before pushing her breasts together and taking them both in his mouth, practically growling at his desire for her and it gives her permission to push his head down to where she wants him.

More than willing to oblige, her jeans are undone and she's lifting herself off the desk to help him work them down, his hands pushing the lace of her underwear to the side to work one of his fingers into her.

She's already wet and he just wants to taste her, and they're getting in the way so they have to go. 

He pulls her underwear down and she's even more encouraged by his impatience and raises her hips against his mouth, which hurries back to press against her, his tongue flattening until she's practically begging and then he laps his way inside.

She groans and sets him free, leaning back with both arms behind her against the desk, gasping for air, closing her eyes briefly and then opening them to see him watching her, his tongue swirling against her before plunging in again.

She suddenly wants to touch him, wants him to hurry, and tugs at his short hair with one hand, crying out his first name as she gets closer and closer to the edge.

His full name comes out  like the sound of it is doing this to her, and his fingers are in her, eager, and she says it again and comes silently as he hums against her.

Flushed and riding down her high, he gets to his feet and throws off his jacket, takes apart his belt and trousers as quickly as possible and she can see in his face that he has no intention of being slow or delicate about any of this.

Just seeing him with such a determined look, so wanting and so vigorous, he looks so very much just the way she's been missing him.

She wants to help.

When she reaches for his shirt, he grabs her arms and pushes her legs apart with one of his knees and then pulls her hips into him to get to the right angle, all business.   
  
His forehead is glistening, his skin is hot in her hands, and she can feel it and understand it.

The desire to be consumed by this.

He pushes into her and moans so loudly that she starts to put her hand over his mouth afraid someone is going to hear them and he begins to laugh and kisses her fingers, drawing one of them into his mouth as he drives himself into her, watching her beneath him.

The joy of letting him just fuck her.

Pulling her closer into him, he lifts her legs and slides her down so her back is against the top of the desk, a concentrated look on his face as his hands grip the top of the desk so it doesn't shake so much, pinning her against the top.

He's pleading her name over and over again, she can see it in his face, he wants to lose himself and whatever is still holding onto him, she forces away with  a deep kiss.   


He lets go, with a jolt, and she can feel the tension drain out of body after, feel him throbbing inside of her, a cry caught in his  throat, as he collapses onto her chest with a huge sigh, holding tightly to her.   


"Is this hurting you?" she asks after a moment.

It takes him a second, but he knows why she's said it.

"No," he says, shaking his head just a little. He's not sure why. He's too eurphoric to dread that just yet.

Likewise, he lifts her wrist and presses the button on her heart monitor. It's steady.

He kisses just above her pulse while he's at it.

When he stands up he pulls her up with him, fingers laced between hers.

"We've got a few hours ahead of us before we're home," he said. "You want to...?"

He nodded toward the bedroom on the other side of the office.

"Yes," she said, standing up off the desk.

She looks at him standing there with his shirt on and his pants around his ankles.

"Ladies and gentlemen, your Director."

"Thanks," he said, rolling his eyes as she laughed, sitting in a nearby chair to take his shoes off and slide his pants down the rest of the way.

"The shirt too?" she asked gently, leaning naked against the desk, as his fingers hesitated over the buttons.

When he had it off, he stood back up, putting his arms around her as she looked at his scar.

He watched the sweet sadness in her face as she put her hand over it, glanced up at him.

"It's okay," he said. "I'm still here."

She hugged him fiercely as he kissed her forehead, then he swung her up into his arms and carried her into his room.

They curled up together under the covers and talked until they heard the sat phone rang from inside his pants on the floor of his office.

"I'm being paged," he said, ruefully.

"It's okay," she said, running her hand through his hair. "Part of the job."

"This isn't," he said, leaning forward, touching his face to hers before giving her a brief kiss.

"And I'm glad."


End file.
